


Desert Dreaming

by Rivana



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-11 03:35:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11140266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivana/pseuds/Rivana
Summary: Ray Vecchio is the best undercover cop in 5 states. If only that would make the pain go away.





	Desert Dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> Automatically uploaded from the old Due South archive. Man, that was a while ago. Glad to see it though. 

Desert Dreaming

## Desert Dreaming

  
by Rivana  


Disclaimer: Not mine. The Due South concept and characters belong to Alliance. Brian is mine, but who the hell cares anyhow. No money, no malice, just having fun. 

Author's Notes: First fic in the fandom. Feedback always appreciated. Flames will be hung out in the rain. 

Story Notes: Set sometime during the Las Vegas stint. 

* * *

There was something almost spiritual about the desert at twilight. Which was ironic since what he was presently engaged in certainly couldn't be all that good for his soul in the long run. Still, it was pleasantly warm yet, a slight breeze caressed his cheek and if he closed his eyes he could almost pretend that it was the caress of human fingers. Fingers belonging to someone who wouldn't as soon kill him as bring him off. Fingers belonging to someone other than the man now standing slightly to the side and behind him. Right now he'd take any of his exes back in a heartbeat male, female, hell he'd even give Angie another go. Anything to make the emptiness go away. As he felt the first prickling warning in his eyes he forced them closed and his mind to subside. _Focus on the mission._ When he reopened his eyes he knew the green orbs were cold and clear staring flatly at the man on his knees in front of him. The man he was supposed to be killing now. A murderer, a rapist...a man. The third made his stomach knot, but the first two, they made it all right. It had to be done and he was the man to do it.  
  
"Any last words?" Hi voice was calm, in control. No one would believe this was the first time he'd done something like this in cold blood. No, he was professional.  
  
He looked up once more and studied the stars waiting for a reply. He was stalling, but it didn't matter. The man would die, it was inevitable. He'd known it would come to this at some point. He didn't know it would be this precise night, this exact moment, this man... But the moment he'd touched the silver plated gun currently in his hand he'd known it would come to this ad he'd accepted it. For the mission. It was acceptable, hell he was even doing the world a favor getting rid of scum like this. Still it was something to make not of, to pause at, for at least a moment contemplate the existence of the person standing in front of him. Someone. This was someone. This man had once been born, grown up, went to school....laughed, cried, taken a dump, jacked off. Loved. It didn't matter in the end of course, he was still scum and this was what happened to scum in Vegas if they didn't watch themselves.  
  
His thought processes were halted unexpectedly by the silent whisper.  
  
"Please."  
  
Green eyes grew gentle. Kind almost. Poor bastard. Maybe he'd had a shitty life, who knew. Maybe he genuinely regretted all his sins, maybe... But probably not and anyway it wasn't his place to judge. It was his place to do the job and do it well. Like only the best undercover cop in 5 states could.  
  
Before the man before him could recognize the softening in his eyes and start to feel any misdirected hope the safety on the gun was turned off.  
  
"Sorry, no."  
  
He pulled the trigger and shot twice in succession, once in the chest, once in the head. The man fell slightly to the side and was left in an awkward position, brain matter and blood being drunk up by the sand. The desert quickly soaking up whatever moistness it could gather.  
  
"Life for life."  
  
He threw two coins at the corpse and turned signaling to the two goons by the car. At least he hadn't infiltrated on gofer level, now that would have been unbearable.  
  
Brian met his eyes and tilted his head questioningly, brown eyes like chocolate, dark bangs covering half of his pretty face. Funny how he could witness cold-blooded murder and still look like an innocent college kid.  
  
"What's with the whole ceremony thing?"  
  
"It's about respect Bri."  
  
Brown eyes narrowed and thick eyebrows drew together in confusion.  
  
"What the hell did he deserve respect for. He was a murderer, a rapist a fucking thief and a liar. Respect would be the last thing I'd ever show that...man."  
  
Silently he agreed, but his doppelganger was a peculiar s.o.b.  
  
"It's respect for the deed done bambino, for a life given, a life taken. It's to show respect for the mother that bore him and the mother of all. It`s respect in the face of ending a life no matter how fucked up. Get it."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Brian sounded thoughtful and he cuffed the younger man affectionately over the head before settling one arm over slender shoulders and steering his prodigy towards the waiting limo.  
  
"Yes oh. So what do you want to eat tonight?"  
  
"Oh...Hm...I'm in mood for some Italian..."  
  
Damn, the kid was insatiable. Had his libido ever been this well served in his life? Probably not and it probably would never be again so he'd better take his licks while he could. Fuck, at least there were some perks with the job... Yeah. Fuck. He could feel a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as they settled in the car and let it break out completely as Brian looked his way once more and smiled back at him.  
  
"What's on your mind?"  
  
The smile grew wider as was his custom.  
  
"You."  
  
"Oh."  
  
A delightful blush covered that beautiful face and a horrid mixture of lust, affection and pure hatred warred in his chest.  
  
"You're articulate tonight aren't you. Maybe you could make some better use of that mouth of yours."  
  
That was all the prompting needed as the younger man gracefully sank down to his knees on the limo floor and started undoing expensive Armani pants with hands just this side of reverent. As the dark head bent to its task of servicing the still flaccid penis with expert lips and tongue, weary eyes closed above him and Armando Langoustini, also known as Raymond Vecchio leaned back against his seat and tried to remember the touch of gentle fingers on his cheek. But all he could find was the memory of a cool breeze against his face and a small shifting in the air as two bullets left the chamber of a silver plated gun and the last breath of a dying man by his feet. But at least he was safe, for now. And if there was a keening noise leaving his lips, it could just as well be the reaction to a blow job well done as horror over blood spilled in cold blood in the desert. And if his whole body was shaking well then that could just as well be from his orgasm as from trying to hold back the tears and the anguished screams that wanted to leave his throat that he knew would instead haunt his dreams. Maybe sex with Brian tonight could take care of that. If he worked hard enough at it he was sure he'd be able to exhaust himself so much he wouldn't have any dreams. Yeah maybe... Or maybe not.  
  


  
 

* * *

End Desert Dreaming by Rivana 

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